Summer's Solstice (Loki Odinson)

Chapter One

'One night, why can't I have one damn night of peace?' Maren thought as she heard the sudden crack of thunder she knew too well.

Of course, she was happy to see one of her best friends, a man she had grown to consider family over the year they had known each other. Unfortunately, that friend had just arrived in the midst of Maren's feverish working. Canvases lay strewn across the paint-splattered studio, most marked with intricate drawings and color but the rare few left untouched were in the corner, just waiting for Maren to fling herself at them in another fit of artist's rage.

The woman threw a sheet over her dried paintings and twisted her easels to face the snowy landscape outside in a desperate attempt to hide them from Thor. Maren knew he wouldn't criticize her work (intentionally), no matter how horrid or deserving of criticism it was. No, that's not what she was worried about. One look back at the canvas she had abandoned only reinforced the idea: Thor could not see this.

Not until she figured out what it meant.

A fist at her wooden door and the call of her friend roused Maren from her cleaning, the tremors from his heavy knocks nearly spilling a gallon of bright pink paint on the floor. It wouldn't be a bad addition, most of the floor was already either crimson or icy blue and hell knows she wouldn't mind watching Lord Scoldemort, the grouchy ball of fluff called a kitten, look all smug and dark on the floor Barbie was murdered on.

A second knock sent the artist diving after the paint, huffing as a strand of hair was corrupted by the pink substance. The sight brought a wicked smirk to Maren's face, however, as she realized how she could repay her dear friend for the visit. Two seconds later, she was at the door and grinning like an idiot, waiting to unfoil her scheme. Maren expected the bright smile the God of Thunder was known for, but was instead greeted by a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders. She opened the door wider, instantly being engulfed by the strong arms of the man she considered her brother. She froze for a second, but then embraced him as well.

Maren breathed in the scent of him, his arms nearly crushing her against him as he did the same with her. Unlike him, though, she could smell the weariness of him, the scent of battle and worry and stress nearly overloading her senses. He sagged against her, his muscles straining with the effort of standing and she quickly brought the god to the living room, checking fervently for injuries once he fell to the couch.

"Thor, you know I love you but we have to stop meeting like this," Maren murmured, checking his ribs for any fracturing or splintering. The god chuckled and waved her hands away, apparently thinking being nearly unable to stand is perfect and no cause for a friend to worry. However, the winces that followed the slight movement disagreed with him. As soon as she tried to look for any further injuries, Thor stopped her again.

"I am alright, Maren, or I will be. I will return to the healers on Asgard once I complete my task," he insisted.

'Return? Is this bitch trying to tell me that he left the healing chambers, knowing full well that he wasn't rootin' tootin', and came down to Earth, further complicating his healing process?'

Thor, seeing the anger and worry on his friend's face, placed a heavy hand on her shoulder, grunting with the effort and not noticing the girl flinching. "I am alright, I promise you. Once we are on Asgard, you can personally escort me to Eir herself."

Maren's eyes widened as she stared at the god in disbelief. "Um, you might be a bit more injured than I thought. Did you hit your head on the way down? How many gorgeous goddesses similar to myself are you having the privilege of seeing right now?" Thor gave her a look to shut up and for once in her life, she listened.

Thor sighed and leaned back against the sofa, hearing Maren rise from her spot before him and stride into the kitchen, the clinking of dishware ringing through the small space. "Asgard is on the brink of war and we are not ready for the threat we face. My Father calls for our allies as we speak but they have taken refuge in silence, fearing the desolation that will undoubtedly fall upon us all. I would never ask this of you if it were not necessary and I know you have no obligation to defend Asgard but please-" Maren shushed him, knowing how his pride was probably suffering tremendously. She walked back into the living room and handed him a cup of freshly brewed tea, despite knowing he'd much rather have alcohol.